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the curators. Now all we have to do is lay in wait for her. We will be ready. We will be vigilant."

Monaco. That meant East might take part in this too. I slid my gaze to my father, but he wouldn't look at me. Was he angry with me?

Stop being a needy twit. He's got bigger fish to fry. One of our senior officers had been infiltrated. How much information had he given her? That was the true issue here. And until we could answer that question, we all had a problem.

Then Denning stood. "Our second priority is Francois Theroux. We have evidence that he was at the Jameson Estate on the night that Agent Kincade was shot."

I frowned then raised my hand. "With all due respect sir, what proof do we have? Do we have any video? Do we have anything to prove it was him?"

Denning frowned at me, but there was no retort to my question, no frown of annoyance. None of that. He just looked displeased.

Oh, how the tables have turned.

"There was physical evidence found in the vault. It was him."

Amelia pinched me under the table. She knew he was lying. Either that, or Jameson had planted evidence which another agent later found. Fucking hell.

My father still said nothing. When the meeting was over, we had our assignments. I raised my hand. “Regarding the piece in Monaco, I can speak to the curator, AJ Hale. I have already interviewed her in relation to the original case. If Wilson is headed there, we might beat her to it."

For the first time ever, Denning looked like he might be, if not pleased, at least not hating me. I looked at my father, and his gaze pinned me intensively. "Don't just contact her by phone. We're going to Monaco."

I stared at him. "We, sir?"

"Yes, I will accompany you. It seems that I need to keep a closer eye on my agents, doesn't it?"

Denning said nothing. He shifted uncomfortably under my father’s glare though, looking every bit like a new pin on some kind of examination board. Wow, I had never seen my father this angry. Not even when I crashed his car when I was sixteen, driving home with my drunken boyfriend. He'd believed me when I said I wasn't drinking. But I had been dating a boy he'd told me very clearly to stay away from. So that was a point of contention. And still, he was angrier now than he'd been then.

A part of me wanted to gloat that I'd warned him about Denning, but I kept my mouth shut. All I did was nod in acquiescence that, yes, in fact, it seemed perfectly normal to travel with my father to Monaco.

When the meeting was dismissed, my father held me back. Amelia gave my hand a quick squeeze before she scooted out. When we were alone, Dad didn't move from his position. He just stayed against the wall.

"I don't think I need to tell you, Nyla, that you have played the situation to your advantage. No missteps, no mistakes, and you have goodwill. Not only were you correct about Agent Sinclair, but you were also instrumental in identifying who Krista Wilson was. So utilize your goodwill."

I met his gaze. "Dad… Sir," I adjusted. "I hear you. But I want the record to show that this isn't goodwill. This is the basics of me doing my job. The job I've done day in and day out for years. This isn't some lucky break I stumbled upon. I've always been like this. Usually, it pans out, thank God. But sometimes it doesn't. And let's not pretend I got lucky here. This took hard work, not only on my part, but on Amelia’s as well."

His glower remained, but he really had nothing to say, so I continued. "And I'm not going to point out to you that I tried to warn you, or anything like that, because I'm not petty. So don't do the both of us a disservice by suggesting that I would use the situation in any way to make things worse for Denning. Maybe you haven't noticed, but I have moved on from him. I came back, and I came ready to work, even though you made me eat crow to him before you’d let me do it. That's what I've done. Don't diminish what I've done by suggesting that I somehow got lucky or that I am somehow underperforming. Please acknowledge that I've worked hard and I'm not going to gloat over the situation. After all, we have thieves to catch."

I turned to leave, and his voice was low when he spoke. "You weren’t lucky. You’re well trained. I should know. After all, I trained you."

I laughed. "Of course. Please do take credit for my accomplishments."

He sighed. "That's not what I meant, Nyla. You've never been lucky. You have always been good. All I mean is that there are eyes on us now. Especially after I screwed up with Denning. Let's not squander the opportunity we have for you to shine. That's all I meant."

And then it was he who walked past me as I stood there frozen. It almost sounded like he was proud of me.

For once.

Chapter Fifteen Nyla

It was easy enough to get Theroux to agree to a meeting that afternoon. After all, this was the information he'd been looking for, waiting for. Logistics were difficult, but I left it to East to finally come through with something that was going to work out.

Four floors down from the penthouse, with East's security crawling all over the floor, I stepped into the plush executive suite only to find that Theroux had beat me there.

"Agent Kincade."

"Theroux."

He gave me a slow, tugging grin that told me he found pleasure in my stubborn refusal to greet him with any sort of familiarity. "You're looking much improved from the last time I saw you."

"Yeah, well, that's what a little house arrest and tea will get you."

"Noted.

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